


Cup your hands on your mouth to hold an ocean

by Vyragosa



Category: Food Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, the fortress and the battering ram
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-20
Updated: 2018-10-20
Packaged: 2019-08-05 01:40:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16358213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vyragosa/pseuds/Vyragosa
Summary: “Prove me wrong.” Boston’s tone was unusually quiet, too quiet to Curry’s liking.





	Cup your hands on your mouth to hold an ocean

**Author's Note:**

> this was bound to happen and I just wanted to let it out, just really loving the fact that there's someone as mysterious and elusive as Green curry actually liking Boston I'm truly dying to know how they met and why exactly they are drawn to each other...if not only for their mutual hatred of humanity's most rotten members ?
> 
> english is probably not the best please bear with me ahah hope you like it!

“Which one is it?”

The question caught Green curry off-guard lost between two thoughts.

“What do you mean, Boston?” smile not faltering from its usual stiffness.

“The one you truly are.”

Boston was not one for lengthy monologues and found putting thoughts regarding emotions particularly troublesome to word. But when it came to facts and enunciating truth for what is, he never wavered. That eloquence in a few words was what drove and attracted a good number of souls to him naturally. Boston lobster was a man of action rather than a man of word while Green curry had proven to be the polar opposite.

His fingers slowly reached his mask to delicately rest on its edges.

“Which one do you assume I am?” the way Green curry spoke in a singsong when attempting to control the conversation never failed to irritate Boston.  
“Don’t reply to a question with another, you know we won’t get anywhere this way.” he was irritated, but not enough to speak louder than a heavy sigh.

The man in red always cut straight to the point even when Curry wished for some foreplay.  
He lifted his mask slowly, not opening his eyes until he felt Boston’s breath on his face.

Eyes were and would always be the mirror of the soul, exposing the heart he had carefully enclosed into a fortified citadel of his own. A stronghold swallowed by shifting sands. To not only keep the intruders at bay, but also to subdue the beast within.

There happened to be a soul stubborn enough to walk through it without minding the scars it might leave on him. Tearing down doorways and anything standing in his path. To not only step forward, but also to leave himself a getaway.

“Don’t hide from me. I want to see you.”  
A low chuckle covered by a white glove replied.  
“How could I possibly hide when I am standing right in front of you? Isn’t the distance between our lips not a fair judge?”

His voice wavering ever-so-slightly, Curry struggled to get out the words without his mask. There was no defenses, nothing to shield him from the incoming remarks and the infinite possibilities of replies. Utterly vulnerable and exposed. He could only feel confident enough to take it off when he was absolutely certain that the other party would either trust him completely, or be at death’s door. Boston was neither. The blows were not what bothered him, the way his weakness could be exposed in his eyes was.

Boston pressed his index on Curry’s bottom lip. “And still, you hide from me.” He brushed a few strands away from Curry’s eyes.  
“Prove me wrong.” Boston’s tone was unusually quiet, too quiet to Curry’s liking.  
The benevolent smile Curry forced himself to maintain suddenly fell into a thin line displaying neither joy nor sadness.

“You don’t want to know. No one does and no one ever will. Because they will all be dead before knowing more than you do.” the words tumbled out of Curry’s mouth in a monotone chant.

The corner of Boston’s mouth did not rise at the word, he found no amusement, no relief, or anything that could take his eyes away from gazing into Curry’s. What he did feel, was pity.

He slowly placed his lips on the smaller man’s staring up at him. They did not return the kiss. Green curry felt dreadfully cold to the touch and for the very first time, Boston loathed it.  
He wanted to feel warmth, he wanted to feel the emerald spark that followed him faithfully into the unknown. But after this question there was none.

Boston attempted to deepen the kiss by bringing their waist together and holding the back of Curry’s head toward his. Slowly, gradually, the warmth returned to Green curry the longer Boston fought to prove that he wanted to know what no one else wanted to. That he would be there to face death by his side unafraid, that he would never betray someone who dares put their faith and life in his hands.  
Curry’s tense shoulders relaxed and he slid his arms around Boston’s neck.

As there was no reason to hide from another beast.

**Author's Note:**

> Oh, why I am still afraid of silence? I think I may never know  
> Instead, we fill the air with violence  
> Just to reap the grain we sow
> 
> You can't worry, just thinking something  
> Cup your hands on your mouth  
> To hold an ocean


End file.
